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Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Concrete Evidence

The mists gently
cascaded over the rolling mountains. The trees swayed softly in the morning
breeze.I breathed in deeply. I was at
home on a mountain in the wilds of Western North Carolina, finally.Sometimes I think I can feel the pulse of the
quartz that bubbles to the surface of the soil all over our land.I feel a peace I never knew I was
missing.

Over
the last several years, I began a journey that has changed my life; and
monument to that journey stands on the top of a small mountain deep in the blue
haze of the Smoky Mountains.

Several
years before, I had moved to Atlanta, Georgia with my husband.We had both grown up in Suburban Detroit and
had known for a long time that we didn't want to stay there forever.The opportunity presented itself to relocate
to Atlanta and it seemed like a great option.We didn't really know *where* we wanted to spend the rest of our lives
and Atlanta offered us the opportunity to explore the American South East.
Shortly after our move, we discovered Asheville, North Carolina and fell
instantly in love.We knew that we had a
place we belonged.

In
2009, I found myself building a house with my own two hands. My husband had
long expressed restlessness with the corporate world of 9 to 5 jobs and work
that did not fulfill him spiritually.For him, the solution to that was to explore his dream of building a
house on his own. For myself, I had always wanted to live self sufficiently - I
wanted to be accountable only to myself when it came to how I spent my time and
how I used my own resources to live simply. Those two motivating factors were
easily compatible and we enjoyed working together to realize them.When we uncovered the mysterious properties
of Asheville we finally felt ready to move forward with those dreams.We were able to buy fifteen acres in the
mountains just north of Asheville and began work on a tiny cabin.We painstakingly began to build, having never
done anything like it before.Occasionally we had friends help us, but most of the time it was just
the two of us camping and building on weekends.

On
a weekend in May, I discovered a strength that I didn't know I had.Our building site is inaccessible by car or
truck by design.We use an ATV to get supplies
to the area.This particular weekend we
were to pour the concrete piers for our foundation. The holes had been dug
several weeks prior by my husband and a friend using an auger rented from Home
Depot.We had hoped to begin the process
of pouring the concrete at that time, but we had been slowly learning that
projects seemed to progress at their own pace regardless of our
determination.Now, the two of us faced
the task of pouring the piers ourselves in one two-day weekend.Neither of us had ever done it before.We spent time making sure the cardboard
tubes, called Sonotubes, used to set the posts were level with one another and
cut to the right height.We transported
a small cement mixer, thirty gallons of water, and twenty-four hundred pounds of
unmixed concrete up to the building site.We were force to make trip after trip as the ATV could only carry three
bags of concrete at a time.When finally
all of the components were safely at our worksite, we began to mix and pour
concrete to make eight foundation piers.By this time, it was already after noon on Sunday.Both of us still worked corporate jobs in
Atlanta so we were motivated to get this project done in time to get back for
work on Monday.Like the proverbial
well-oiled machine, the two of us worked together mixing one bag of concrete
with one gallon of water at a time, thankfully with the help of a cement mixer
and our generator.We would pour the
mixture into a bucket and then into the sonotubes.Bucket after bucket after bucket.Time still marched on and while working on
the seventh pier we knew that we were running out of daylight.We both started to panic in different
ways.My partner was worried about
getting everything done to perfection in spite of the time crunch and I was worried
about having enough time to clean up the worksite and begin the three hour
drive back to Atlanta.Emotions ran high
and tempers began to flare.As the last
light of the sun dipped below the mountains, we set the last anchor bolt in the
wet concrete of pier number seven with only the illumination of a flash
light.This still meant we had one more
pier to do, and we would have to mix it by hand some other weekend as we had to
return the mixer to its lender.Anxiously, we were able to clean up the worksite, pack up the car and
leave the Blue Ridge mountains going toward Atlanta.It was eleven thirty when we started the
three hour drive back. We were both tired and we drove in shifts and finally
made it back around two thirty a.m. on Monday Morning.I had called my office and left a message
over night. - I needed some sleep or I was going to be completely
non-functional.The gravity of what we
had actually accomplished finally set in and by the next day the memory of the
event began to change.

To
be completely honest, I was miserable that day. It was hard and dirty work that
I had never done before.I was
frustrated by time not being on our side.Never once was I ready to give up.Now, there is a little house standing at the top of a mountain near
Asheville, NC.With our own
determination and with the help of some dear friends, we were able to construct
a perfectly level and square tiny cabin in the woods.It isn't done yet, but we are very proud of
where we are.And still, we haven't
dreamed of giving up.

1 comment:

Laura, I have so enjoyed reading several posts on both your blogs today. I am so impressed with all you and Matt have done to realize and live your dream. Over the last few years I have gotten rid of so much stuff and simplified my life. I have very little left and plan to sell the remaining furniture once i have a buyer for the house. When I move it will be to an apartment and I will get a few pieces of furniture to make it comfortable. But I plan on keeping my living space simple and not crowded with stuff.

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